Hitch-Hiker

A hop and a skip across a shallow ditch.
An obliging car.
One weedy arm -

extended, far beyond the shock of
dreams.
Your three o'clock waking, when I say
-

"How do you like me? How do you like
me?
Do guileless minds find me dapper

in my
rancid cape and matching cap?"
In truth, I'm a snaggle-toothed
surprise,

unbidden by wary wing mirrors
-
fast receding smiles. So sit down!

Sit
down! These are not your towns!
The road coils around their
voiceless throats,

climbs the cracked mound of your
mouth,
runs out over fog-bound fields.

Take
your hands from the wheel!
Over there! Where the clays
unsheathe their bones.

Welcome home!